Mercier could straighten it out eventually, I know, but our boy would be out of our hands for the duration. Better if he comes along willingly.”
“I see your point,” she agreed.
“Fine. We’ll need to get the location of his computer first. You’ll get him to take you home with him if you can, and you’ll pinpoint where it is. Then we’ll have located our proof. Next, once you’ve enticed him onto the yacht and we’re out to sea, we’ll get some answers.” He looked over at her with a smile. “Then maybe I’ll dump the little bastard overboard and see how the sharks like garbage.”
Tess smiled and shook her head. “You’d never do that.”
“Don’t think so?” He looked entirely too serious.
“Would you?”
He shrugged. “Depends on how cooperative he is and how I feel at the time.”
“Stop yanking my chain, Cochran. You’re treating me like a trainee agent, and I’m definitely not that. I’ve been around the block a time or two.”
“Fine, so take your hair down, show a little cleavage and let’s see your sexy look.”
Tess jerked upright in her seat and glared. “What?”
“So I can see if you have what it takes to persuade our boy to ride the seas with you. Looks like you might need a little work.”
“Go straight to hell!” she gasped, clutching her chest with one hand and the armrest with the other.
He closed his eyes and blew out a deep breath. “Well. A lotta work.”
Tess had never wanted to slap a man so badly before in her life. Instead, she stood up and marched to the back of the plane, into the bathroom, and slammed the door.
She leaned against the tiny sink and tried to calm down. When she could breathe normally, she raised her eyes to look in the mirror, attempting to assess her features objectively.
Could she entice with these looks? Would any man in his right mind follow her onto a boat?
Not unless she stole his wallet. Cochran was right. She needed a lotta work.
She let down her hair and fluffed it, letting a slightly wavy lock fall over one eye. Sexy? Maybe a little if she ditched the outfit and went back in there stark naked. Or maybe not.
Cochran was seriously impacting her self-image. Her image frowned back at her.
“I can do this!” she said in a desperate whisper.
Half an hour later she pranced back into the main cabin, copying the exaggerated runway strut of models she’d seen on television, and posed, hand on her hip, to get his reaction.
His lips pursed and his left eyebrow quirked up as he looked her over. His gaze traveled over her like a laser, burning her confidence to ashes as it tracked from her hair, over her skimpiest, half-buttoned sweater, over her straight-leg Kleins, right down to her strappy little sandals and back again. Then he looked away without so much as a comment.
What was he thinking?
“Well?” she demanded, resting both hands on her hips.
He smiled up at her. “The look is adequate, but I think the attitude will have to change. Sit down.”
She plopped into the seat across the aisle from him and crossed her arms over her chest. “Face it. I’m no femme fatale. Not in my genes.”
“Hey, the jeans are great. Could be a little tighter, but the cut is right and the color’s good. The sweater’s way too cutesy, though, even left open like that. And you’ll need a push-up.”
“Bra? You’re telling me what kind of bra to wear?” Tess was incensed. And red. She could feel her face burning. “So I’m a thirty-four B. Sue me!”
“Look,” he began with a studied blink and a sigh that screamed impatience. “Don’t take this personally. I’m trying to be helpful here. Sexy is in the attitude, and yours is too…uptight.”
She rolled her eyes and threw up her hands. “As opposed to down and loose?”
He grinned and nodded. “Finally the aha! moment. See, you’re halfway there, just knowing that. Now all you have to do is loosen up.”
Loosen up? Damn, if he said that again, she’d smack him!
She jumped up, paced down the aisle, turned and paced back, fists clenched. He made her feel like a weird old prude with ice water in her veins! And she wasn’t! She was not!
Furious beyond words, Tess leaned over, grabbed his face with both hands and kissed him soundly on the mouth. She could be sexy. She’d show him just how sexy she could be when she put her mind to it.
But her mind strayed dangerously when her lips met his, and her fury was the last thing on it.
Chapter 3
Cameron almost jumped back in shock, but the feel and taste of her lips registered quickly enough to prevent that. Instead, he leaned into the kiss and deepened it immediately.
Damn, the girl must have been around the block to kiss this way. He grasped her waist, pulled her down on his lap and let the good times roll.
He had kissed a lot of women, but even in her anger, this one had a sweetness, a freshness and an eagerness he had seldom enjoyed. Yeah, he could work with her, with this. Man, oh, man.
As suddenly as that she jerked her head back and stared at him, wide-eyed. With shock?
“Hey, you kissed me,” he reminded her, adding a quizzical smile to put her at ease.
She jumped off his lap as if he’d bitten her. “Well, it won’t happen again!” she announced as she backed into the seat across the aisle and sat down with a plop. “That was just…just to…well, show you.”
“Well, you sure got my attention, I’ll give you that.” He crossed his legs to hide his erection. If the kiss had scared her that much, he didn’t want her to run and lock herself in the back cabin.
“I can be sexy,” she declared, crossing her arms over her chest and slinging one jeans-clad leg over the other.
Cameron nodded. “Yes, you can. I’m convinced.”
“Don’t you patronize me! I hate it when men patronize me,” she snapped.
Damn. “Okay, make me some ground rules here. I’m just a guy, and we pretty much take things at face value unless we’re told otherwise. So, you can kiss me, but I can’t kiss you back?”
“Exactly,” she said with a firm nod, still keeping her eyes averted. Then she shook her head. “No. There won’t be any more kissing. Understand? No kissing. At all.”
“Okay, got it. Then I’m guessing sex is out of the question?”
“This
